I took the scroll and the rings and tucked them safely inside my own tunic. I couldn’t see I had any option. I could only hope that learning the dead man’s name would tell us who had reason to kill him. I had the rest of the day and tomorrow to find out before the Great Panathenaia started.
Chapter Four
The walk home gave me time to work out what I was going to say to Zosime and the others, when I found them sitting in the shade of our porch. As I expected, they were startled to learn what Aristarchos wanted me to do, to see justice done, and to help out his hapless relative Melesias Philaid.
‘There’s no reason this should take up too much time,’ I said quickly. ‘If the dead man is some foreigner, this becomes the Polemarch’s concern. With any luck, whatever town or island he came from will have ties to some rich Athenian who serves as their Visitor’s Advocate in dealings with our magistrates. He’ll send a messenger to wherever the man came from, to let his family know what’s happened. It’s their duty to pursue the killer, with their Visitor’s Advocate’s help.’
Though I wondered how long it would take to notify the bereaved, especially if the dead man was from some far-flung city. The killer could well find he had all the time he needed to get away with this foul murder.
Hyanthidas held out his hand. ‘May I see those rings?’
I handed them over. ‘If he’s an Athenian, the Ruling Archon will notify his brother, or his father – whoever’s head of that family. They’ll enlist their district brotherhood to help see justice done. It won’t be long before they find someone who knows something. The most they’ll ask of me is being a witness, when they accuse the killer, and bring the case before the Areopagus Court.’
Telesilla raised a hand. ‘The district brotherhood?’
Of course, she would have no idea what that was. ‘The men who belong to the same voting tribe and live in the same district as whoever’s been killed. They can swear to the court that the dead man was a true-born Athenian citizen, because he was presented to the brotherhood as a child by his citizen father and has regularly taken part in their rites. These days, they’ll vouch for his mother’s citizen birth as well.’ That was necessary since the city had adopted Pericles’ proposal that the rights and privileges of being an Athenian should be reserved for those born of two Athenian parents.
‘I see.’ She nodded, and exchanged a wide-eyed glance with Hyanthidas.
I didn’t take offence. I know life’s different in Corinth. If a man isn’t born there, he can become a citizen if he simply lives in the city long enough. He passes that status and its obligations on to his sons, no matter who their mother might be. But Corinthians have nowhere near the rights and rewards that are democracy’s gift to Athenians. We safeguard such privilege accordingly.
‘May I?’ Telesilla took the rings from Hyanthidas and examined them.
‘Unless, of course, no one who knew him is much bothered by his untimely fate.’ Thoughtful, I tapped my open hand with the roll of papyrus. ‘That could tell us an interesting story.’
Hyanthidas nodded. ‘We should ask the other poets if anyone knows of any quarrels that could have led to his death.’
Telesilla was passing the dead man’s rings to Zosime. Her hand halted in mid-air. ‘We?’ she asked her beloved. Her tone was guarded.
‘You don’t think I’m letting him do this alone?’ The Corinthian was surprised. He jerked his head towards me. ‘What if he finds himself talking to the killer without realising it? The villain might think he can still escape justice if he knocks Philocles senseless and flees the city.’
Or the murderer might do worse. That had occurred to me as I tried not to remember the gruesome destruction of the dead man’s face. Though I’d been planning on taking Kadous with me.
Zosime’s expression told me she had something to say about this. I decided to change the subject.
‘Whoever he is, the dead man I mean, the city magistrates need to know if this was an attack on him personally, or an attack on the Great Panathenaia.’
‘Or an attack on Melesias – what was his name?’ Hyanthidas asked.
‘Milesias Philaid.’ That possibility hadn’t occurred to me, but the Corinthian was right. Rich men don’t dirty their own hands. They fight their battles with proxies.
‘Aristarchos will be best placed to look into that,’ I said thoughtfully.
Zosime wasn’t going to be distracted. ‘Why does it have to be you asking these questions?’
‘Don’t you think I’ll have a better chance of getting answers? Kallinos is a Scythian and a slave, even if he serves the city. Do you think any citizen family will share their concerns with him? Melesias Philaid could doubtless send his own man to make enquiries, but surely it’s a safe bet that he’d get told whatever people think his rich master wants to hear?’
She narrowed her eyes at me. ‘I think Athenians are too quick to answer a question with a question. Those Ionians were right about that.’ But she turned her attention to the rings as Telesilla handed them over.
Hyanthidas had a more immediately practical observation. ‘It never hurts to do a powerful man like this Melesias a favour, and I still owe Aristarchos a debt of gratitude.’
That was true. He had suggested I consider hiring Hyanthidas after hearing the Corinthian play at a symposium held by one of the city’s other rich and influential men.
‘So where do we start?’ Hyanthidas looked at me. ‘I can’t see
